Altered States
by TheGDPatman
Summary: Set apart from the rest of the dark multiverse, a mirror world of post-crisis earth is the setting for Bruce and Diana's love to become a reality. (My arc for #WonderBatMilestones week on Twitter & Tumblr)
1. Chapter 1

**Altered States**

(Disclaimer: I own none of these characters)

* * *

 **Prelude: The Black Oasis-**

Before the age of heroes and villains, monitors and anti-monitors, dark multiverses and gods, there was the spark. The spark of potential that birthed the sea of possibility, and from this all else flowed. Soon the siblings tasked with overlooking creation were joined by their next of kin, from whom the future was wrought. He made his home in the very essence of things yet begun, and drew inspiration from all that is. Working tirelessly, he perpetually sought to hone his craft making better and grander worlds, more complex and intricate universes, and richer forms of life. Hopes and dreams made for grand creations, and fears and nightmares created turbulent miasmas of instability. And in the seemingly infinite upheaval of evolution, both terrene and cosmic, there were eons populated with nightmares bred from the growing pains of creatures in the march of progress. Existence is too fragile a thing to allow for any one force to mitigate completely, and as instability bled into The Forger's works, soon he found himself sorely in need of a means to balance the duality. The dragon Barbatos was knit together to fulfill this purpose.

He was the sickle in the hand of the reaper of existence. Together, The Forger and The Dragon worked in tandem, seeing to the quality of all that was to be. Countless multitudes of failed realities were incinerated or consumed at the hands of the great leviathan, as the great metaphysical cycle spun on and on, like a stage play with no audience conjured for the amusement of no one but its composer. As this push to quell the overt negativity at play in his tapestry of actuality was under way, The Forger was hard at work repurposing the sum total of the hopes birthed by his hand into more and more substantiality. Like the returns on an investment, he flowed a river of potential into so many beautiful layers of existence, each an improvement on the last. He constantly worked to see the energies of every living thing used to one end or another, working with a sense of pride but not without a desire of his own in play: all these many levels, much like pages in a sketchbook, were all as prototypes. Each one was a step closer to some as-yet undefined masterwork The Forger had conceived yet not fully visualized, for even possibility made manifest was not without a dream of its own.

In the forge of worlds, time was a known yet essentially meaningless dimension. Things passed as they needed to, when they needed to, and not before. But after an allotment of millennia nearly unfathomable to a human mind had come and gone, The Forger had become skilled beyond measure at his monumental craft. His celestial progenies now ranging more consistently on the side of viability, he gave into his creative impulse more and more with each dimensional plane he willed into being. Greater lifeforms aimed at better purposes where more and more commonplace, as the hopes and fears of the multitudes they protected and terrorized fed the fires of the world forge to build the next of The Forger's works, with the notion of a crescendo just out of his reach.

In all this swirl of fabrication, it seemed to go unnoticed that The Dragon had developed proficiency for his job that more adequately could be described as obsession. He lived only to consume and to destroy. The notion of homeostasis and duty to his actions was lost on him. None of that mattered, so long as there was a universe to devour and fears to feed on. Soon, he recognized this will to decimate, and he recognized the greatest impediment to the most bountiful prize of all, in his master. All that separated Barbatos from the stable multiverse, alive with so many points of conduction and possibility, was The Forger. More and more, the wheels of betrayal moved The Dragon to enact an insidious plot he had concocted to clear his path to finally gorge himself to his own contentment on the only thing that made sense in his mind: destruction. This was now his sole motivation to keep up the masquerade of duty, for now to say he was obsessed with destruction was inaccurate; Barbatos was addicted to it.

After finally constructing a universe ripe for imitation, The Forger began his labor of love. Tucking it deep in the sea of possibility, he shaped this passion project in pure potential. Setting it right with the greatest heroes ever imagined readily willing to see to its defense, he reconstituted a bent line of actions and effects from the players acting out in the stable plane of existence. This mirror would serve to twist things as he would have them be, to see what a maximized set of variables might render. This stage he had set was for him alone, to serve as his magnum opus.

Sadly, The Forger would never get to see his hope realized. He was struck down by the very being closest to him in his eternal balancing act. Now there was nothing in The Dragon's way to stop his insatiable appetite for ruination. He became overtaken by his aspiration so much so that he neglected his intended purpose to the point that a whole dark multiverse was realized from the presence of the universes he was tasked with initially destroying. But even in this perpetual darkness, the final creative endeavor The Forger managed before his demise remained safely out of the sphere of The Dragon's knowledge. Left seemingly forever to its own devices, protected merely with divine deception and the ignorance of the damned. Beyond the endless night, wrapped in a blanket of hope from a dying god's last wish, deep in the sea of possibility as if it were an island lies **The Black Oasis.**

It is here that a connection was forged, between 2 people unlike any their reality had seen before. And while doppelgangers for them existed throughout hyper-time, it was here on this tenebrous sanctum, this sinuous reflection, which they found something very few of their many facsimiles had.


	2. Chapter 2

**First Impressions-**

 **(As seen in Matt Wagner's Trinity limited series, the first encounters between The Dark Knight & The Amazon Princess weren't exactly smooth. But here, after all the commotion of their first mission had settled, things were moving in a different direction...)**

* * *

Thunderous steps ring out from the foyer of the Themysciran embassy. Like a force of nature, its proprietor burst through the heavy doors and into "The White Room" without even a word. Stopping abruptly, she surveyed the emptiness of the place with an aura of disbelief.

"Alana?" She called out to her personal secretary, only to be met with silence. Becoming mildly more apprehensive now at the lack of occupancy, she cautiously moved on. Walking down the hallways, she surveyed each room as she passed it, only to find them all equally vacant. Finally, she rounded the corner to her shaded office, darkened against the afternoon sun. Hurrying one last time to her desk, she settled into her chair, made one last visual sweep of the premises, before closing her eyes and letting the tension of the past few days begin to dissipate from her psyche. She breathed deep, each expansion of her lungs bringing in a small trace of relief. She felt an ease that she hadn't known in a few days' time envelope her, and give her a sensation of peace, until her mind was levitating like her physical form would do on a midday breeze.

Subtly, an aroma begins to tease her. It's warm and inviting; it's familiar as well. After a microsecond of trying to place it, her mind registers the scent's origin: Amaranth. A deeply significant flower to the Amazon people, and one she had in various areas throughout the embassy, but... not in her office. How was this pungency so close? Opening her eyes, she quickly darted her gaze across the room to find a freshly potted plant in her field of vision. How long had it been there? She didn't recall it there upon entering the room. She breathed deep again, but something else caught her attention. There was musk, present in her surroundings. It was expertly masked, but still not without a tell. Again her mind set to work trying to identify it.

Almost instantly, she lights up at the realization as she props up to speak into the emptiness before her, "You almost had me fooled Bruce, but you still reek of battle" she says through a mildly disbelieving expression.

Wordlessly, he emerges from behind the door to face the impatient Amazon. Her mind was awash in questions, but forming them into sentences was eluding her at the moment. Bruce wasn't the only one still fresh from the fight, as she hadn't defrocked or even disarmed since leaving the site of their incursion with R'as al Ghul, Bizzaro, and Artemis that resulted in effectively ending the threat of both nuclear terror and the intended state of mass confusion Ra's planned via the destruction of most of earth's communication satellites.

Pointedly, she inquires "So, are you the reason my staff is absent? Did they run off at the sight of the fearsome Dark Knight?" she smirked in conclusion.

Firing back in his trademark gruff monotone, Bruce points out "According to the posted memo in all the staff areas, you gave them the day off in observance of Independence Day" He returns her smirk.

She suddenly remembers the significance of the day. This new holiday was still a bit foreign to her, given her recent arrival into Man's World, but it had been explained as remembrance of a time when the forebears of her adoptive land cast off the remote rule of a monarchical overlord to become autonomous. Seeing as the Amazons were a people that had also fought to free themselves from bondage in their past, the idea of a day dedicated to such liberty stuck her to the core, and she wanted make sure she allowed for adequate time for those in her employ to both observe and revel in the day as was customary. However, she had lost track of time in the past hours events, and her lack of sleep was only serving to exacerbate the state of disconnection from the present.

Still she managed a retort "I guess that explains how you got in so easily"

He countered "I'm sure you'd like to believe that, but even with your safe guards, this embassy isn't impregnable"

She interjects "So was this a random security check, then?" She's beaming now as she leans over her desk and eyes him standing there across from her, still trying to blend among the shadows present in the room.

Losing his patients slightly, he says "Artemis was an unknown entity to me prior to this engagement, and you yourself stated she had been off the grid as far as Themyscira knew as well. No one knew where she was, or where she is now. All we're sure of is that she's sworn vengeance against you, so the most likely thing to do is an ambush in a place you'd feel safest..."

At this, she interrupts him "Wait, are you checking up on me again Bruce? After what happened on Paradise Island?" His demeanor shifted at this, she imagined he was recalling the left hook she laid into him after he, while under one of the island's protective enchantments meant to stupefy and confuse any mortal interlopers, planted a kiss on her as she was leaving a recuperative dip to shake off the after effects of the Lazarus Pit that Bruce had placed her in to heal her wounds at the hands of the League of Assassins.

Coming back into the exchange, he replied "Well as far as I can tell, there are no enchantments on the embassy, so I think I'm safe in that regard..."

She cheekily replies "Lucky for you". He simply let out an annoyed grunt at this playful jab.

She was half shocked at this given the fact that it would be the third show of concern from a man that upon introduction began an argument with her in record time, and half annoyed at the this notion Bruce and Clark had that she needed monitoring. Truly, she had hoped for more from these men she had trusted to fight beside her, but it seems she would have to take the task of re-educating them in less patronizing displays of concern in the future.

Still, at least the intention was shockingly sweet from Bruce. Perhaps he was indeed more complex than she had initially thought...

Her eyes had dropped to the flower pot again. Instantly, her curiosity returned. "What's that for?" she asked eagerly.

The query was legitimately disarming for Bruce, and his resolve suffered "Oh, well... I thought it was the least I could do..."

"For?" she said as she pressed him.

"Stopping Bizzaro. I never should have let up my assault until he was incapacitated. It was sloppy of me" she nods in agreement before suddenly, she realizes his implication and interjects again "Wait, are you thanking me?"

Gruffly he finally relents "Yes. Thank you."

Of all the things she'd seen recently, this was the most shocking; especially after all Clark's talk of his detached manner. She was far too exhausted to process something so unexpected. At this thought, she giggled thinking that an ambush from Artemis would have been less alarming than such an admission and gesture from Gotham's greatest urban legend.

"How did you know it was my favorite flower?' she grilled him, out of nowhere.

Happy for the subject change, he quickly spoke "I know something about its usage in anointment rituals in Amazon culture, as well as the dye extracted from it being used in the garb of royalty. And knowing your station, I thought it was a logical choice. Not to mention, its aroma follows you like a shadow whenever we've been in close quarters."

She rolled her eyes and fought off a small smile as he broke down his line of logic, keeping totally in line with her primary assessment of him, but she thrilled at his more personal observation all the same. She hadn't realized it immediately, but she was blushing now.

Moving on effortlessly, she simply says "You're welcome Bruce. But truly, you saved me from that snare that the league set up. You're also responsible for getting me into the pit in time to save my life. We're more than even."

After a moment of comfortable silence, he advances a suggestion "Well, at the very least, let me try to tighten up the security around here."

Furrowing her brow, she fires back "Only if you agree to some sparring sessions. You're a great fighter, Bruce Wayne. But I can make you a great warrior."

Intrigued, he asked "Are we seeing to each other's mutual safety then?" Not missing a beat she responds "Someone has to."

At this, he nods and begins to make his way to the window. Turning, he seems to conclude "I'm not much of a people person. But if you ever need help, call me."

She nods in silence as she turns in her chair, not wanting to let him see her smiling at the notion of camaraderie with her once furious detractor. As he passes by she gives him a final thought "Bruce, you may not be much of a people person. But if you ever need help, call me. OK?"

He turns one last time before repelling out the window to nod in response to her, saying "See you soon, Princess"


	3. Chapter 3

**Lost & Found-**

(Disclaimer: I own none of these characters)

 **(Brad Meltzer's Justice League of America #0 showed the moment Bruce and Diana confronted Clark's passing. This moment was a fantastic highlight of just how close these 2 members of the League/Trinity are, especially in times of crisis. In this world though, the spark that lit a silent fire was woefully kindled by the embers of a funeral pyre...)**

* * *

Her grip was fixed on Bruce's chest, as if to steady the mixture of hyperventilation and shocked tremor. His resolve was breaking. The mystique of terror and impregnability are nowhere to be found. All those airs of quiet reservation had followed. He was shaken, to his very essence, at the news pouring in on the screen before him deep in the Fortress of Solitude.

She didn't get cold usually, even in the tundra that housed Clark's sanctum, but this day brought with it chilling sensations of the most somber order. She wasn't sure if this was what caused her to feel a slight tremble, syncing up with his, or if she simply wasn't ready to see this man so deep in a despair he wouldn't ever show to anyone. This truly confirmed the horrible revelation she had hoped was untrue.

She pulled him in tighter. Her tears had started to form upon her approach, seeing the unmistakable signs of emotional upheaval forming in Bruce. She had begged him to acknowledge this tragedy upon her entrance, and realized instantly he could not. He evaded it with every point he could, but the affirmation of the loss of their dearest friend was simply not something he was ready to speak into being. In fact, words in general seemed to escape him as he fought internally, trying to steady himself against the harsh realization that was burning deep into his mind. His breathing was erratic; his jaw locked in a stationary position, as he discretely averted his gaze up to the screen. The headline scrolled and the reporters were dumbstruck and left silent as footage came across from the battleground. The image that would become iconic on that day of Clark's cape wrapped around a piece of debris as it flapped wildly in the wind glared brightly into Bruce's psyche. His leer landed once again on the keyboard. Finally it seemed he gathered himself, or perhaps the weight of the moment had become so oppressive that it didn't even allow him breathing room at that instant.

The fleeting calm made Bruce instantly aware that Diana was, for all her supportive show of strength and compassion, just as distraught as he was. He felt the disjointed twitches of her forehead against the back of his mask as she had come to rest there. Her tears were starting to collect in the base of his neck as she lingered. He felt that she had tried so hard to think of him first in that approach, knowing how death affected Bruce. Truly, this compassion was her greatest strength, and she was the strongest person he knew.

He began to rotate in her direction, trying to show her a brave demeanor, hoping it would perhaps help to bring some sense of accomplishment to her that she had succeeded in her initial attempt at easing his sense of mourning. His gaze found hers, as she rested her hands on his shoulders. Her electric blue eyes were bursting with a sorrow he had not seen in her before, nor did he ever want to see again. His hands met hers for a moment, as they continued up and began the task of removing his cowl. He let his mask fall off to the side and onto the floor. Finally, they found their eyes locked together, saying all the things that the events of the day wouldn't allow the brevity for. His hands had once again come to rest on hers, as they peered into each other.

Her fingers found Bruce's face, as her head came in toward his, and she rested her brow parallel with Bruce's. He did not fight this, though he did not fully comprehend it either. Her breathing was now... different. Not laboring under the pain of loss, no, now it seemed to be bound up in the grip of apprehension. Their gaze never broke from each other, yet their noses grazed and their cheeks seemed to pass as ships in a mist. Almost no distance remained between them. Their lips seemed to be locked in unspoken conflict, each set daring the other to finally give in and make contact. The sudden realization strikes Bruce that he was now taking in copious amounts of oxygen as he came back into the moment. She is matching him in every facet, as alight with desire as she is with apprehension. Both were still dreadfully aware of the lamentable circumstances that birthed this moment, so full of complexity.

Slowly, her eyes closed, and opened again as her grasp loosened and withdrew. He eyed her as she pulled away slightly, and backed up slowly. Her gaze still never left him. She calmed her lungs, and gave a nod. Turning on her heels, she returned to her point of entry. This was already a time of such palatable tension; to exacerbate it further was something not even her great warrior spirit was capable of enduring just then.

He watched her leave, equally lost in what was the proper response to all that today had brought them. His mind had so much more to process now, all while the loss of his friend enveloped him in near totality.

Was this some frantic act of connection in the face of their omnipresent sense of mortality? Was this the need for fulfillment they had all felt was lacking in a field that brought you the adoration of many, but the true love of none? Was this perhaps something else entirely...? Were they now something else besides teammates entirely?

All he knew for sure was that, if only for an instant, something had found them and made the prospect of a world without a Superman seem a little less like a literal Doomsday. There would be a tomorrow, because Clark saw to it with his own life. There would have to be a team to ensure that this would always be the case, and this is what would best honor their friend's memory. And, even though there seemed to be something else there now, he and Diana still had each other to see all these things through... To the end.


	4. Chapter 4

**Promises in the dark** **-**

(Disclaimer: I own none of these characters)

 **(Heated moments on the battlefields gave way to attempts at resolution ( _JLA#74 & 90_), a crisis of self & a crisis through time ( _Infinite and Final_ ), a night of terrors ( _Blackest Night_ ), and finally a reunion ( _Return of Bruce Wayne_ ). It wasn't long after that the princess and her knight finally could not deny what lay between them. So much of their future is seemingly bright, but the shadow of the past is never far behind...)**

* * *

A slow early autumn breeze moves through the room. Moonlight pours in through the open window, outlining the figures laying in a tangle in the lavishly sized bed. This rare night of serenity found these two people, so foreign to tranquility, both enraptured in a slumber so profound that neither had known its equal in recent memory. Such solace was like a reward after the weeks and years of perpetual struggle, uneasy victory, and irreparable loss. The shared symmetry of their forms was like a lemniscate, knowing no beginning or end. They simply interwove in some cherished configuration, savoring the delectation they had averted for beyond too long.

Such placidity is a most charming facade for the turbulence going on in their subconscious minds. There evening's rest often found them entwine, as much out of a sense of necessity as out of affection. Their chosen paths as society's barricade against the villainous ambitions of evil men had acquainted them intimately with sacrifice. Like a damaged reel of film flickering on a torn screen, such were the moments that gave them so little reprieve in their most quiet moments. They sleepily found this way of acting on their deepest fears, clinging to that which mattered most to them, never to let the tragedy they knew like an abhorrent regularity steal one of them away in the darkness.

Bruce's face, un-awaken but still locked in an expression of tension, tells the story of a life lived in constant conflict. His mind hasn't released him from the rigors his many exploits had manifested into it. Such lucid recollection was something he could do without. Yet still the vivid account rolled through his subliminal faculties: He finds himself caught in Darkseid's Omega Sanction, launched back through time, left to endure the harshness of the past among early man at the dawn of humanity. Every morning found a new fight for survival, every evening a new challenge to see to. He quickly found he could employ the ignorance of the Paleolithic tribes against them, utilizing a makeshift bat-style garb. This measure of beguilement was especially effective, leading many to believe him to be the avatar of Barbatos, a local deity, himself.

But even as he acclimated to these new surroundings, he had never forgiven himself for things being left as they were. Many dark nights were spent in his hovel, staring into a fire, torturing himself. So much regret flowed out of such moments, as he relived the kiss on that Atlantean battlefield in that glorious last stand together. Additionally, he never quite got out his desire to fully explore the connection between them as they stood in the glow of the Trans Conscience Articulator, after Diana used the Martian machine to sort out her feelings. The wordless embrace lingered between them then, for as much as they both thought that their feelings were best avoided at that time, their mutual adoration was not so easily vanquished.

He was equally burdened by his reaction to Diana's time as a fugitive after killing Maxwell Lord. This was such a hurdle between them for so long, and nearly tore them apart on every level. He took some solace in the fact they had eventually come to terms with the incident, but the fact he didn't really take her circumstances into account at the time would likely never leave him. Especially now having come so close to having taken Darkseid's life with the radiation bullet, his grasp of what duty may ask of you was now a bit more grey than it was before that time of crisis.

The recollection of this pained him, even beyond the veil of sleep. He felt himself shutter slightly, but this tremor gave him only to a change of images as his thoughts soldier him onto the next cerebral souvenir: Bruce is crouched down, etching furiously into a cave wall. His eyes strain against the artificial light from his torch, as he works against the forces of despair. His drowse form feels its forehead loosen at this, finally showing signs that the shades passing inside were not causing him turmoil. He remembers what this all meant to him, as the insignia in the wall became clear. Diana's sigil, there for him to look to, like a beacon. This mad hope, fertile with the determination to get back to where ever she was to finally find out how their story would conclude, was what had him feverishly deciphering the nature of this curse Darkseid had shackled him with. For her, for him, for them! He would best this dark god of entropy and break the cycle that was the death that is life, and stand before him once again in defiance with her by his side.

This pleasant memento finally woke him. He blinked lightly as he regained his wits and focused onto the angelic face resting on the pillow beside him. A slight smile moved across his face in the cloak of darkness, as his eyes studied every part of her they could define there in the night's embrace. Examining her closely, he found a sort of forlorn look taking residence on her. He very much wanted to wake her with a show of passion as his lips preemptively made ready to taste hers, but he had no inclination to stare down the certain death that would await him should he wake an amazon before she so desired to be. He only hoped whatever was troubling her would pass soon.

Her own demons had found her this night, as she was now stuck in a recurrent cycle of evocations of her time as a Black Lantern. Such lust for death had never been known to her as it had in that carnival of horrors. The gallery of slain and maimed faces of those she loved most had affixed themselves indefinitely to her. The madness of death given conveyance had made her harm her friend Mera, and sent her off to the land of Aphrodite's illusion. This gift of the love goddess shielded her from doing any measurable damage to humanity, but in the throes of it, it felt as real as the sun on an afternoon on Themyscira. The sickening impact of weapons laying waste to facsimiles of her mother and sisters still bound her insides up in a manner that was its own form of perdition.

The blackness of that day still haunted her. The lifelessness in the eyes of her slain kin, though illusion, haunted her further still. And the thought of the loss of volition to give reality to these nightmares and make one kill without consideration, haunted her above all else. She had seen such things overtake Clark, and the notion only grew more unsettling each time it intruded into her cognition. The existence of any article with that kind of power, or of that kind of power existing unchecked, had only left marks of loss in her personal history and scars on her teammate's psychology. She found herself feeling now as she had then that she would have given the wealth of nations to simply see the light again, to make all of these atrocities plague her and those dearest to her no longer.

The more her latent psyche hovered on this, the more her dormant face was beginning to show it, as Bruce looked on and became more concerned at this sorrowful expression. However, it was in this moment of vulnerability, that her battle hardened mind took over. She had gotten passed this, so allowing it to afflict her now was useless masochism. She can't let this have power over her, for it was no match for the greatest power she knew of: love. Yes, it was her love that broke the Black Lantern's spell. The vision of Bruce, who she thought dead then, came to find her. The thought of basking in the glow of countless galaxies as they lost themselves in osculation gave her conduit to the power of her long-held feelings for him. Such was the strength of this emotion that even the light spectrum took notice. The blackness was soon gone, and the cold feelings of death with it. All she saw now was brilliant violet, and all she felt was the reassuring warmth of the stars. Her dark knight had led her to her brightest day.

He saw the silent turn in demeanor, and breathed a sigh of relief. Her face was beaming now more exquisitely than anything he'd yet seen in the multiverse. Slowly, she began to show signs of awareness, as he took notice of her stirring next to him.

"I hope I didn't wake you" he advances, not knowing if he had somehow moved in such a way as to disturb her in his previous vigilance.

Smiling, she begins to blink in a mildly more rapid succession "You could say that..." as she rested her head on his chest. She pulls away after a moment, and looks at him finally inquiring "What's keeping you awake?"

After a moment of contemplation, he breathes out his reply "Everything" she furrows her brow at this, as she settles back into his sternum. Both simply lay there for a time, grateful for the noiseless space. Each felt equally nourished by the comfort the simplicity of the other's presence has given them. So it seems this odyssey finally found them bound together. The bleakness of the past now giving way to the promise of a shared path into tomorrow, knowing that whatever lay ahead, they were better prepared to face it together.

"I love you, Diana"

"I love you too, Bruce"


	5. Chapter 5

**Moment of Truth (Part 1)-**

(Disclaimer: I own none of these characters)

* * *

Clark steps lively down a stretch of deck in route to his destination. He passes many familiar faces, greeting each with some hurried gesture as he accelerates his pace ever so slightly to keep himself within the confines of the itinerary set forth for the day's events. Checking his reflection in a window as he neared his stop, he adjusted his tie and swept a stray lock of his hair to the side as his attention is pulled away by a rhythmic noise growing stronger as he continued on in his march forward.

Momentarily, he ponders the potential source of the cadence. Had he, in his hampered rush, accidentally tuned into some mechanized compartment of the vessel? Or perhaps he was picking up some undersea creature's movements as it passed by? At any rate, it certainly seemed to be as intense a thing as he could recall hearing in recent memory.

Having become so focused on the as-yet unidentified noise and being lost in his thoughts, he didn't even notice the figure standing in a nearby doorway as he was passing. As his focus was still fixed totally forward, a voice finally rang out and demanded his attention.

"You know how adorable it is watching you pace the deck so anxiously like that, Smallville? Were you like this before our wedding?"

The figure reveals itself in a slow, confident swagger. Moving out into the light and closer to Clark who was now frozen in place on the ship's deck, she glides a hand up his back and revolves around to him to meet his gaze as her arms wrap around his neck.

Closing his eyes and lighting up at the sound of her voice, he begins a silent chuckle to himself. His eyes meet hers and he flashes her one of his trademark blindingly white smiles.

"Is it that apparent that I'm nervous, Lois? I mean, it's not every day your two best friends get married, especially to each other."

"Oh don't worry Clark, like I said, it looks good on you. Reminds me of how you used to put on the whole tense act around me to try to throw me off of your… secret." She says with a knowing expression as she leans in and plants a swift kiss on the end of his nose, causing him to simultaneously blush and beam at her.

"And it took those two long enough to finally make it official. But, God knows I'm glad they did. They deserve it" She breathes out dreamily as her eye roam out to the open sea, before returning to her husband.

A faint smile edges out on his face as he nods in agreement "Yeah, they sure do."

She plants one more discrete kiss on his face as she begins to move in the other direction "I won't keep you any longer, Mr. Kent" she says with a wink. "See you once the fun begins." She slowly trots off, only looking back for a moment to smile at the glowing site of her husband in the afternoon sun. He had such an aura of jubilation about him, that she laughed quietly to herself thinking it may even just catch on to the usually stoic groom. But she wasn't holding her breath.

Clark continued on, now very near to his final destination and in even higher spirits than before (if that were possible). All of the sudden he became aware of the sound again, after having lost his concentration on it when Lois surprised him. As he reached for the cabin door, he couldn't help but to find humor amid the perceived deafening thud, now having deduced its origin.

* * *

Clark knocks on a door, and waits a moment for a response. No reply. He knocks again…Still no reply. Usually, this is when he'd engage his x-ray vision, but given the circumstances, he thought that might be intrusive. Finally, a voice beckons to him from the other side, biding him to enter in a low monotone. A relieved smile on his face, he proceeds inward.

As he moves into the open space, Clark quickly surveys the scene before him. In the room's center, Bruce stood in statuesque fashion. His spine ridged and his posture frozen, with only the slightest bit of almost undetectable twitching shooting across his face. And underneath it all, Bruce's heart was thundering. This was the siren song that had led Clark to his journey's end. The pulsing wave roared inside of Bruce like nothing Clark had ever heard emanated from him before, and that was saying something considering Clark could usually spot Bruce's heartbeat anywhere on earth. Truly, the effects today had had on him were so far reaching even his physical being had taken notice.

Barely able to contain himself at the vicarious excitement he felt, Clark manages to blurt out "Is everything ok, Bruce?" through a wide grin as he entered through the door being held open by Alfred, giving a gratuitous nod upon passing by him and stopping a few steps short of Bruce.

Narrowing his sights in on Clark, Bruce replied in flat kind of tone that was forcibly masking a note of anxiety. It was something that only those closest to Bruce would have been able to detect, and even then it was so fleeting you'd have to tune in to it.

"I'm _fine_ Clark"

Waxing placidity Clark queries "Just…fine?"

Bruce stops him dead in his implication "Clark…"

His lips fully turned up at the corners and his resolve almost exhausted, Clark presses on "Because I could have sworn I had heard something as I was approaching…"

Mincing no words, Bruce responds almost instantly in a low, sarcastic, faux-accusatory manner "You're _spying_ on me on my wedding day, Clark?"

Slightly taken aback and averting his glance to the wall directly at his right, knowing he'd been figured out (this is the world's best detective after all) he simply played it cool "Well… In all fairness Bruce, you weren't exactly doing a good job hiding your… turbulence." He finally gives in and smiles broadly at his comrade.

Clark continued "You actually had me worried for a second. I can't say I've ever heard something like _that_ out of you before… Heck, I thought a storm might be close." He laughed as he shot an upward glance at Bruce.

Finally breaking his silence, Alfred concurs with Clark "Too right, Master Kent. The old boy's as stiff as a board" The butler teased, catching a sideways glance from his charge, as he shrugged it off.

Clark can hear now that Bruce had forced his heartbeat back to its usual intonation, but the slightest shade of scarlet still trailed across Bruce's face, and the audible tension in his nervous system filled Clark's ears now. A moment later, it seems as though Bruce had centered himself, as nothing unusual seemed to catch Clark's ear anymore.

Disarmed in this moment, Bruce averts his eyes towards the floor. He smirked and finally responded " _How do you think I felt_?" He says, maintaining his smirk.

Stepping forward and nudging him, Clark replies "Human?" as he made his way to a couch adjacent to the mirror Bruce was standing in front of as he pulled himself together.

Clark took a seat as Bruce laughed to himself and followed him with his eyes saying "Forgive me for finding it ironic that my friend from another planet is praising my literal Goddess of a fiancée for humanizing me"

In a reciprocally cheeky manner, Clark fired back "Doesn't mean I'm wrong though…"

Relenting as he looked away to fix his tie, Bruce granted "No, no you're not."

Leaning forward, Clark's demeanor takes a more pointed inclination. He leans into Bruce's field of vision, addressing him forwardly "She really does bring out the best in you though, Bruce."

Bruce's eyebrow furrows at this. Clark notes the quizzical expression, opting to expand on his statement:

"Ah come on Bruce, you don't need telescopic vision or super hearing to pick up on how your expression changes whenever she enters a room, no matter how hard you're trying to hide it. I think I've even seen you almost smile a time or two. You can't even seem to grumble as per usual in her presence. You're just so… healthy, when she's around."

Looking down to make a final assessment of his attire, Bruce averted his glance out to sea, where he paused for what seemed like hours and recalled the vast consortium of moments in the tapestry of he and Diana's shared story, before coming back to Clark. His friend's moment of sentimental brevity having given Bruce over to his own feelings of ardor, he confides "Clark, I'm not very emotive…"

Instantly, Clark seems apologetic, thinking he has unsettled the groom. Quickly, he fumbled to correct his perceived slight "Oh my, I'm sorry Bruce! I didn't mean to..." Bruce cuts him off, and continues "So much of our job is unseen, and a lot of our good work gets us no gratitude. We live and fight and die on the precipice that separates the people just trying to make it from one day to the next and nightmares given life that want take everything they can from them and leave nothing behind. And in all the moments we've found ourselves facing down some situation that would haunt even the strongest among us, I never let myself fall into thinking that this world was just a collage of horrors on our march to an early grave. As long as she is in this world, there is something good worth fighting for."

Clark watched his friend as he spoke in a manner he had seldom seen before. The honesty was palatable, and even his pulse seemed lighter without any auxiliary effort. This day was a happier occasion than he could have hoped for, Clark thought as he smiled approvingly at Bruce, who had stopped talking a few seconds before hand. Bruce's eyes darted around as he seemed to be waiting for Clark to respond to his revelation in this moment of clarity. Finally, he broke the awkward silence "… Are you ok, Clark?"

Coming down from his emotional high, Clark rapidly answered "Oh, yes, of course! I'm just so happy for you both Bruce." as he discreetly wiped a tear from the corner of his eye.

Bruce turned to face him, and walked over in his direction, stopping a step or two from him. He reached out, and extended a hand with a warm expression, "Thank you old friend." Clark stood and reciprocated the gesture.

At that moment, Alfred spoke from the corner of the room, "Sirs, I believe it is time we made our way topside. Things should be underway soon."

Clark led the way, and Bruce was close behind. Clark winked at Alfred as he passed into the hallway. Alfred stopped Bruce for a moment, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Your parent would be so proud of you today, as am I."

As he passed, Bruce locks eyes with Alfred "Then I'm glad I could make my family proud."


	6. Chapter 6

**Moment of Truth (Part 2)-**

(Disclaimer: I own none of these characters)

* * *

The rustling of garments rings out from behind a closed door inside a brightly illuminated state room on the opposite end of the ship. A young lady sits on a daybed that lines the wall that the door partitions off from the inner chamber. Her expression is one of deep adulation, as her head moves around surveying the open space. Looking down, she adjusts the hem of her dress, an old world Grecian model garment rendered in a highly stylized form for the occasion. Raising her head again, she adjusts her ponytail in the mirror across the room. The suspense of having to wait while her seemingly adoptive older sisters were preparing was agonizing for the youth, who was already quite overwhelmed at events of the day.

Finally, she cannot stand the silence any longer and had to ask "Do you need any help in there?"

"No thank you, Cassie" a set of voices responded in unison.

Looking defeated, she averts her eye back to the floor. Trying to calm down, she finds her phone and begins a text message to her beau, Tim Drake.

"Di & Donna ARE TAKING SO LONG TO GET READY!... I may literally die here..."

Almost instantly, her message gets a response "Well, if you're really that bored, you can always join me on the deck and help seat guests…"

Taking the opportunity to tease him, she fires back "One of the world's best detectives can't solve a seating chart?"

He paused slightly, she imagined for a laugh, before he responded with "Oh no, the chart is fine. It's the angry Amazons vying for seats up front compounded with Jason's standard pleasant attitude that's making this hard to accomplish."

Tim continued in a secondary message "But having Artemis and Akila here is really helping out. Thank God someone can navigate the apparent delicacies of Amazonian ritual hierarchy."

"I'm sure it can't be _that_ bad up there" she replied

"Well hopefully you'll get to see for yourself shortly…" he messaged back

"Not at the rate these 2 are going, but I can't imagine it'll be too much longer…" She trailed off as she turned her head back toward the closed door in a frustrated expression as the noises had shifted for that commotion of preparation to the hushed tones of intimate exchange between the sisters.

* * *

"Well? Does it suit me?" Diana inquired from a few feet away, spinning to allow her spectator to take in the full expanse of her frock and figure, bedecked out for the joyous occasion in a wedding ensemble so exquisite one might have thought Aphrodite had gifted it to the bride herself. The flowing gown of white had complimented gilded seams to match her knee-high sandals, a plunging open back, and a floor-length rear train cut asymmetrically to the front. Themyscira's princess was as heavenly a vision as Man's World had ever known.

"Diana, you look positively ethereal!" Donna said from behind the hand covering the bottom portion of her face, as she tried to feign a calmer exterior than she could maintain.

Donna continued, "I don't think even Bruce will be able to keep it together when he sees you".

Smiling, Diana moved toward her sister as she laughingly mulled her inference over "Well, making Bruce lose his composure would certainly make the day most memorable. Just make sure someone captures it, would you please sister?" she chuckled.

Donna simply cracked a smile in Diana's direction as she leaned back against the wall and crossed her arms over her chest. As she gave her one last vertical glance, small tears began to form in the corners of her eyes. Her smile never waned, but her face now could conceal nothing. A giggled punctuated with a stammer forced its way out, and she tried her hardest to stop from being overcome in the moment.

Diana's smile gave way instantly to a look of concern at the sudden flip of demeanor in Donna. Almost instantly, her mind begins trying to process and interpret the scene before her. The Amazon possessed an emotional intelligence unmatched by anyone on the league, and it was hard at work in this moment trying to deduce the nature of Donna's dejection. Her mind races down a list possible causes, stirring up the unpleasant montage of tragedies that form an inordinate portion of her backstory. Did the thought of marriage remind her of losing her husband Terry all those years ago? Diana had feared for her sister's feelings on this day, as Donna had be subjected to having to bury her first love. Such thoughts gave her a sense of hesitation in initially revealing her nuptials to Donna. Though, Diana did feel more at ease when she saw her elation at the proposition of being her maid of honor. The sight of some happiness in Donna's face, something she had known sorrowfully too little of in her life gave Diana such a bluster of hope for her. Her sister was as kind and beautiful a soul as had ever been known to the multiverse, and any cause to give her happiness was enough to well Diana up with joy.

But in this moment of forlorn confusion, she had to wonder if perhaps expecting to offset the lingering despondency was as to hope to turn the tide of the river Styx. Realizing that she was now too concerned to adequately read any meaning into Donna's expression, Diana moved to speak. Before she could manage more than a syllable, Donna threw a hug onto her. Taken aback, the princess is not entirely sure what is the best response to this show of affection. Moving her arms forward, stopping only for a moment in quiet hesitation, she reciprocates the gesture by wrapping arms around Donna's frame. Lingering for a moment, Diana drops back as she reaches out to wipe away the lingering tear from her sister's eye. With earnest intent and an open heart, the princess beseeches her closest ally, "Please child, tell me what troubles you."

The desperate chuckle now gone, Donna looks down to the floor as she steadies her breath. Locking eyes with Diana, she begins her explanation: "Diana, it means worlds to me that I get to be here with you today. I owe you so much. I may not even be here had you not pulled me out of that burning building all those years ago. Getting to learn from you, train with you, and fight by your side is more than almost anyone else could hope for. And having...passed… like I did for a time, the thought of having come so close to missing your happiest moment is heartbreaking. I'm just… So happy I didn't miss this."

Diana wastes no time responding "You owe me nothing, sister. Seeing you grow up into the woman you've become is my greatest success, and watching you overcome so much tragedy in your young life simply validates what I had always suspected: You're truly the strongest among us Donna. Your presence here today is most meaningful to me, and nothing in this world would make me happier than to have you standing next to me as I join my life with Bruce's." Tearfully and joyously, the two women embrace each other. Having finally spoken all the things they once believed beyond words to each other, never again would they allow regret to seat itself in affirmation's stead.

Finally, a comfortable distance evolved between them. Their eyes alight and their smiles warm, neither seemed to want to break the silence that followed their previous tender exchange. However, Donna felt compelled to put a coda on their discourse, as she sighed out "I sure hope Bruce knows how lucky he is to have you in his life, sister".

Meeting her eyes and placing a reassuring hand upon her shoulder, Diana speaks again into her sister's sentiments.

"Donna, _we are lucky to have each other_. We stand in each other's lives; he in mine to remind me that every sunny day gives way to night, and I in his to remind him that the dark inevitably gives way to new light. Neither of us will let the other falter in the light of pride, or lose ourselves in the darkness we court with such dangerous regularity in our shared missions. This is more than just love sister, this is spiritual completion. It's romantic duality. It's something that can only exist in two people meeting each other on even ground, and knowing that their path is better traveled with their soul's counterpoint in tow."

Donna stood still, trying to displace the lump in her throat that lay beneath the broad grin on her face. Diana, not wanting to see her cry again (even if they were tears of joy), smiled as she concluded "But I hope you and Jason will discover this in each other in time. Which really shouldn't be an issue if he has any of his mentor's sensibilities" she said with a wink. Donna's voice crackled a little as a knowing chuckle escaped and she retorted "Speaking of time, aren't we almost due topside?"Noting the change in subject and cheekily smirking, Diana responds simply "Lead on, sister!"

The sound of the door opening causes Cassie to bolt upright and spring forward. As her two relations emerged, she takes in the visual spectacle before her. Both Donna and Diana had the look and poise of something wholly otherworldly. To call them radiant in the youth's eyes would understate the sense of luminance she felt before them. Wordlessly, her emotions overtake her as she stands there with her respiration in a state of flux. Cassie tried to muster a sentence, beginning with "Wow! You both look-" before Di and Donna threw a hug on her. Silently, Cassie's eyes close, and her arms lock in with the others as they link up finally in their clan's totality. After a moment, Diana commands their attention and speaks to them through the center of their newly formed configuration "I am infinitely proud to call you both family. Our love for each other is eternal, and shall increase in scores with the additions gained to our circle here today."

At this, Cassie takes a humorous jab, "So does this mean you're both finally ready?"

"Let nothing stand in our way!" Diana laughs

Gathering their constitutions for the remaining ground left to cover, they proceed down the cluster of long hallways. Finally, they stop at the vale that partitions their point of entry from the eyes of the onlookers. Doing a finally check of themselves, they turned their attention ahead as the "Wedding March" was cued up. At this, their procession began. The bright Mediterranean sun was shining, and all eyes were on Diana.

As she stared ahead, Diana caught passing glances of faces of people she had worked with diplomatically, grown with personally, and fought with heroically. Gazing down from the altar, her mother Hippolyta the commanding Queen of all Amazons, stood in place ready to carry out the proceedings and see to the wedding rituals herself. She was also doing an unconvincing job withholding her desire to gush as her daughter, a literal gift to her from the gods, walked ever closer to her on her way to join herself to the man she chose to share her life with. Such pride was immutable on the queen's face. And standing in the middle of all this was Bruce. Straight backed and standing at attention, he locked eyes right away with his bride. It seemed to her in this moment, as his usual cool demeanor started to vanish and actual moments of warmth at the site of his bride-to-be overtook him, that all else was quiet. There was no other sound but her approach, and the pounding of his heart. As she walked nearer to him, his physical being cried out in tumultuous need to be close to her. She couldn't be at his side fast enough, she couldn't be in his arms soon enough. So much of his internal state seemed so clear to her as she hurried her steps to close the distance between them. Finally, they stood hand in hand, peering into each other as they breathed in the intoxicating musk that emulated only from the essence of their shared being. This moment seemed so far away for the both of them, it left them disarmed in regards as how to proceed. Words escaped them, decorum and ceremony was case off, for now they simply gravitated nearer to each other in what they perceived to be the peaceful enclosure they found within their union.

Slightly amiss herself, Hippolyta finally frees the nuptial couple from the trance they shared, "Are you ready to begin?"

Having his airs of formality return to him as his head began to turn towards the queen, Bruce responds "On your order, majesty."

Turning to Diana, Hippolyta inquires the same from her "And you, my child?" to which, Diana only manages a nod in response.

At their spoken consent, the ritual commenced:

"Children, you have both come here today in light of your feelings for one and other. You stand now as two, but upon leaving this altar, you shall be forever joined to each other. Do you come here today to willingly pledge yourselves to each other in honesty, fidelity, and totality so long as you both breathe?"

They turn to each other as slow smiles etch themselves onto their faces. In unison, they reply "I do"

Joining back in, the queen continues "Then as you have bound yourselves together, may the fates see you bound to prosperity, and may the gods bless you all your days. As queen of Themyscira and the Amazons, I proclaim the union sanctified."

A mass of applause breaks out as Diana leaps into Bruce's arms, and they finally allow their lips to join in the manner that they had been longing to do for what seemed like an eternity. She seems to glide down as a sheet of paper in the wind as their kiss concludes before the swell of guests.

Stepping down to join them, Hippolyta embraces her child as she plants a kiss on her forehead, something she had often done to Diana in her youth. She reaches out and pulls Bruce into the display as well, giving a final word "Bless you both with all my love" Diana sheds a few discrete tears, as she begins to step back, "Thank you mother, having you oversee all of this was my greatest hope fulfilled". Hippolyta's hands find her face as she nods in recognition.

Diana turns toward Bruce, and he wipes away the last remaining drop from her eye, as she locks arms with him. Unable to resist, they lock lips one last time as they begin proceeding forward.

"Shall we, Mr. Wayne?"

"After you, Mrs. Wayne."


	7. Chapter 7

**Into the Night-**

(Disclaimer: I own none of these characters)

* * *

The final percussions of impact reverberate, and the sound of dead weight against the pavement bound back as the lightless corridor in Gotham's warehouse district is now in a state of motionless silence. Close by, sirens ring out as if they had been waiting on a cue. As quickly as the alert had been struck, the pounding of boots on the pavement followed. No time to waste; efficiency in threat neutralization was key, and stealth in site evacuation was paramount. As quickly as the fight had ended, the scene was vacated; With nothing left behind but new occupants for GCPD's holding cells.

The monochromatic murk that blanketed the cityscape seemed like a waveless ocean, serene upon first glance while hiding a frenzy of activity just beneath its facade. A late spring breeze gave the colossal structures that form the burg an almost ambient quality, and the sounds of zephyrs cutting across each other in random trajectories seemed so much more amplified on the building's highest tiers. Immense speed propelled the beating sound of a hasty charge along the rooftops. Bounds from one edge to another happen with a hurried sort of frantic rapidity. The mad urge to put as much distance from the site of the scuffle drove such death-defying movements into being, with the only concern being the next few steps ahead. Keep moving, keep pressing on, until the lights and sirens are swallowed by the pitch the same way the curses and howls and blunt impacts were just before them.

A rough landing and a quick skid across the cement into a decreased jaunt bring the escape to a halt. The measure of the space traversed starts to set in. A fleeting feeling of success at the evening's most recent incursion passes as the forward motion all but ceases. This was an adequate point to regroup and catch a second wind. Though the last few steps were laborious, a sizable transformer on this tower's top made for a good place to post up against for support. A moment's rest was found in the device's lofty shadow, as the sound of leather sliding down to a seated position on the pavement made for only a second's sonance. As the sound of breathing steadied, it seemed safe to relax. With closed eyes and head in a rested position, a final sigh of relief is expelled as if to accent all the gasps that had preceded it. Things were finally coming back into focus, as the sounds of the city seemed as distant as the stratosphere and the low tones of the gales left everything else soundless. This solace was as if a reward for a job well done.

"Hello Myra" a low, stern, gruff voice rumbled out from some unseen vantage point within earshot. A cold chill shoots down her spin as she's instantly bolted upright, not in a stance of defense, but of inquisition. Resisting the urge to scan wildly to root out the entity tailing her all this way, she instead focuses intently to try to pick up any tell that may be present. However, the calming nature of the electricity's hum or the breeze's bluster now frustrated her efforts beyond measure. Gritting her teeth slightly, she slid along the shadows in her immediate vicinity, trying her best to camouflage herself. Still scanning for any sign of life, she slowly and mutely begins to back up. Stopping just a few steps back, her eyes dart from side to side as she breathes out a quiet note of annoyance at not having spotted so much as a clue. "I see you've been busy" the same voice calls out from 2 steps behind her, spinning her around and planting her on her backside with its sudden presence and proximity.

A gauntleted hand reaches out of the darkness to offer assistance to the girl, but no words accompany the gesture. She accepts the help, and reciprocates the silence. Standing in the shadow he was casting in his signature cape and cowl, her glance never leaves his, welcoming whatever admonishment was sure to come from the fearsome Dark Knight that now stood before her in his standard deconstructive demeanor. In all the milliseconds passing between them, she knew he was analyzing every aspect before him, looking for some expression of concern or some sound of regret, but she also knew to offer him none. If he wanted answers, he would have to be direct with her, as she wouldn't give him even a fleeting inclining he could draw a conclusion from.

Finally, she breaks the ocular exchange as her eyes drift off onto the skyline to her right "I suppose it was just a matter of time before you caught up to me…" she turns back toward him to conclude her sentence, "wasn't it, dad?" Not missing a moment nor losing his cool, Batman replies to his daughter "If you knew that then why all of...this?" In a matter-of-fact manner she turns toward her father, and siphons off his focus, so as to make sure what follows next has the desired impact she seeks.

"Because I needed you to see what I could do for yourself." She calmly states.

He intercedes "This was very reckless of you...and very..."

Undeterred, she seized the break in his response and continues "Dad, I could have tried to reason with you, I could have tried to plead a case as to why I should be out here like Dick and Donna and the rest, but would that have worked? Would anything anyone said have been enough for you to give your little girl a chance after all the years of hearing you go on about how you want better for me?"

His mouth goes flat and his eyes narrowed, as he very sharply watches his daughter as she dumps out the contents of a sack at his feet. Zeroing in on the items, slightly obscured in the encroaching darkness, he recognized the profiles of various assorted handguns. He looks up from the revelation at his feet, with an expression of intrigue on his face.

"There's one thing you have never been very good at arguing against, and that's results. I wanted to show you something that made that clear to you. I want to be on the front-lines."

She sees him studying the pile of guns and adds one final addendum to her concluding statement. "Each one of those was illegally obtained; I've taken five of them from perps at scenes I've infiltrated this week. That's at least five fewer lives lost by my estimation." Now sporting a triumphal look directed up at her father, as she stood waiting for him to respond while silently hoping she'd left no room to remonstrate.

His stoic facade was getting harder to maintain. The corner of his lip begins to arc into his trademark smirk and he begins to speak "I was going to say it was very unnecessary."

She looks back at him, eyebrows raised and mouth slightly agape at his quizzical remark. Finally, she finds a response "W-What do you mean it was _unnecessary_?"

Gliding diagonally, he takes a more illuminated position in front of his child, so neither his facial expressions nor his physical emphasis is obscured by the twilight's aura. Watching him closely, she turns up her eyes in impatience as her inhalation grows more rapid. Reading her silent cues, The Batman deduces for certain that he has her unbroken focus, as he imagines her mind must be racing trying to decipher the undisclosed implications in his last remark.

"It seems that perhaps my intentions haven't translated well. I do want better for you… A better start than mine, better skills than mine; I want you to give a better world to your children and I want you to know that this mission, our mission, is one that you can accomplish. We've known that this part of our lives would likely become part of yours some day, but it seems I've made you feel like you couldn't have just come to your mother and I before trying something like this alone. For that… I'm sorry."

She smiled at this unexpected turn of events, her eyes very discreetly welling up with tears at the surprising instance of understanding she was receiving. Truly, she'd expected to be confined to her quarters back at the Manor indefinitely after having been made to go through an act of penance on par with something out of a mythological epic by her Amazonian mother. Diverting her gaze away from the distant skyline that had given her pause to reflect on this unique instance, she averts her gaze back to her father and bluntly asks the only question in her mind at that moment: "So… What happens now?"

"We've had a plan set for when this day came" he begins, only to be playfully interrupted by Myra "Of course you do…" The smirk returning to his face, he continues " If you're sure this is what you want…" She bursts out immediately "IT IS!" He continues " … Then you're not going to get better training than on Themyscira. So once we let your Grandmother know you've decided to join us, your journey can begin."

This revelation was like an electric current through her physical being. She had viewed the grand and mighty Amazons doing combat drills from afar when visiting the island paradise with her mother growing up, and she had always been in awe of their strength and prowess. To be schooled in the ways of martial knowledge by such a legendary body of warriors was an honor she'd always aspired to and a dream she'd always had for herself. This night had brought her so many unforeseen blessings that she was beginning to lose herself in feelings of euphoria. Sporadically and in intense jubilation, she flings herself forward in an embrace with her father, lifting him a few feet off the ground. "Thank you! Thank you so much! I won't let any of you down!"

He lets out a labored response under the weight of her grasp "You're welcome; I know you won't" as she lets him out of the vice-like grip she excitedly caught him in. Re-balancing himself, he turns toward her "I think that's enough excitement for the evening. You've got quite a lot ahead of you, so it's best you get some rest now while you can." he concludes with a knowing expression. Extending a hand to her, he leads her off to the edge of the building, both ready to plunge into the inky veil ahead with a renewed sense of purpose.

"Come on, Myra. Let's go home."

 **The End**

* * *

 **Thanks to everyone for the support and reviews. I hope you all enjoyed the conclusion of this part of the "Black Oasis Saga".**

 **Please keep an eye out for the sequel to this anthology entitled "A Divergent Convergence" coming later this year!**

 **Cheers and happy reading!**

 **The_GD_Patman**


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